A/N2: Minor excerpts from BTVS 1:7 "Angel".

It's amazing how loud silence can be, how lack-of-words can sometimes tell you more than words themselves. Or no matter how many times you find yourself in the same, uncomfortable situation, it still makes you nervous. For what seemed like the zillionth and a half time, the two sat opposite each other in Angel's living room, a thick silence between them. With all the relief that they'd felt an hour ago, you'd think that this talk would be so much easier. But the two seemed to be developing a pattern of sorts: one step forward, two steps back; aggravating to say the least.

They loved each other, cared for each other, would probably die for each other, but both hesitated to reveal anything about their past (or current problems). Logically, it was childish and dim-witted, but then again, since when was anything in their relationship logical? Both had questions they were burning to ask about each other, concerns that they needed reassurances for. They'd got to know each other's current selves pretty well, but they were missing most of the puzzle- why. Why the other is like the way they are, why they were so hesitant and unsure with some things, why were they so unwilling to share that part of themselves with the other?

It's amazing how powerful fear can be. How it can make someone so weak and put others in such power. How much hold it has over us whether we're aware of it or not.

Buffy stared at her companion, quickly becoming frustrated with the situation at hand. Rolling her eyes, she got up and crossed the room, flopping down beside Angel and leaning her head against his shoulder. He reflexively put his arm around her, but gave her a questioning look.

"I don't know about you, but personally the very thought of having this whole 'talk' scares me senseless. You, however, don't and if we're going to do the damned thing, we might as well be comfortable doing it." She said, her stubbornness clearly showing.

Angel gave her a small smile, silently agreeing with her. They would no doubt move from this position before the day was over (sooner rather than later) but she was right, they might as well start off somewhat comfortable. Unconsciously he ran his hand across her bare arm, peering at the ground in search of something to say.

"What's bothering you?" he asked, Buffy raised her brow at the question. "Today, I mean. What were you and Giles talking about?"

Buffy let out a sigh and sat up, moving slightly away from him but still within the circle of his arms.

"Well, he, Giles that is, thought that since he's the closest thing I have to a dad, he had the responsibility to have 'the talk' with me."

"The talk?" Angel asked incredulously.

"Yeah, you know the talk? The one that's been around since the dawn of time to reassure parents and torture their offspring on so many levels?"

Angel's eyebrow rose, clearly not getting the picture.

"The sex talk, Angel."

His look was almost worth the embarrassment that quickly crept through her. His eyes widened, jaw dropped, and he paled a small shade (if that was even possible); taking on the distinct look of a deer caught in headlights.

"Oh." He said, no doubt blushing if he could. "A-and, how… or w-what exactly did he… say?"

If it weren't for her own mortification Buffy would have smiled at his almost fearful and struggling-to-be-cool look.

"He said that he wanted me to be careful, that sex has a lot of consequences; emotional if nothing else. He wanted to make sure I make sure I'm ready for it, when- or if it happens, then muttered a few things he'd do to you, that you really don't want to hear… anyway, h-he thinks we should talk about it." She blurted out, adding the last part in an almost whisper.

Angel nodded, absorbing her words.

"He's probably right."

Buffy nodded, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Buffy?" he asked gently, she hesitantly looked up at him. "It's like I said before, we'll only take things as fast, or as far, as you're comfortable with, alright? I would never pressure you into doing something you aren't ready for, or just don't want to do. You have to understand that, if you don't want it to happen, it won't, I promise."

"But, this shouldn't all depend on me Angel, there's two of us together here. It can't just be up to me. I mean, if you didn't want to it's not like we have…" Buffy trailed off, biting her lip.

Angel looked at her in surprise, a dawn of recognition coming over him.

"You don't think I'd want…" he cut off when she didn't reply. "Oh god, no that's not it at all…I want you; I want you so bad it hurts sometimes. You can't imagine how much I just…" he sighed, trying to find the right words. "Do I want to be with you? Yes. But I can wait, that's just the thing. I won't lie to you Buffy, I've been with countless women; it's not something I'm proud of but it's true. But never, have I cared for any of them, or loved them, or even known them. I don't want it to be like that with us, if or when it happens, I want it to be right. I want to know you through and through, and I want it to be at the right time when we're both ready for it and want it to happen."

Buffy's face flushed at his words with shyness, lust, relief, and love. She could tell that what he was saying was the truth, she silently nodded.

"There's something else isn't there?" he asked, when she still looked a bit uncomfortable.

If she was red before, she was a tomato now. Buffy looked at him, her voice stuttering slightly as she spoke.

"It's just- I mean I haven't had a lot of boyfriends, like ever and… I just…. I haven't exactly… done…."

Angel gave her a small smile, brushing a stray stand for her face.

"It's okay, I know." At her questioning look he continued. "I didn't know 100 percent, but I was pretty sure."

"How?"

"The way you react to me." He said, trailing his hand along her arm. "It's like you get goose- bumps from my touch, you're so sensitive, respond to everything I do or say. It's not that you aren't like that naturally, you're a very responsive person anyway, but this," he said, reaching her chin and cradling her head in his hand, "this is different."

"S-so it doesn't make you think I'm some kind of freak?"

Angel laughed slightly,

"No, not at all. It's a brave thing to do, people underestimate how hard it can be not to give in sometimes. Whether it's to society's standards or your own feelings."

"I didn't want it to be just sex, I wanted to save myself until I was ready. When I found someone special to be with."

Angel smiled,

"Like I said, you're so brave. And I think it's great that you're waiting, that part of you is a gift that the other person should cherish, it's the one thing in life you can truly never get back. And it is special, more than some people realize." He paused for a second. "And if there's ever anything you want to talk to me about, just ask okay? I don't want you to have to live in the dark because you're worried about what I might say."

"Then, there is something, that I've been wondering about. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, it's not really important or anything."

Angel nodded, urging her to continue.

"It's your soul. I mean, you're like the only vampire I've ever heard of that has one. Were you like that when you were turned, or….?"

Angel sighed, trying to think of the best way to explain it.

"No, when I was first turned, I was a soulless demon like all the others…. I-I spent a hundred years making the world my own playground; anyone whose life I even remotely touched, was lead to an ugly death and more pain than anyone can imagine. Then, one night I attacked an old gypsy clan; killed most of their people. The few that escaped hid in some nearby caves, they gathered all the supplies they had, and conjured up a punishment for me; the one they knew would hurt most." He paused, a fog of depression creeping across his features. "When you're turned into a vampire a demon takes over your body but you don't have a soul, you don't care. You don't feel guilt, or remorse, you can kill and feel nothing but satisfaction, but when you get your soul back, you can still remember everything you did, every scream, every plea. Every last bit of pain you caused- and it hurts. Almost more than I could stand. One morning, not long after, I waited on a rooftop for the sun to come up… but it never did. I was visited by a demon named Whistler, he told me that I could 'whine and complain all I wanted, but there's no way I'm getting out of it that easily'. And that's about it, I wandered for the next few centuries, distancing myself from humanity for the most part, making sure to remove any temptation I might have... It wasn't until I came here, met you, that I even thought of doing some good."

Buffy could only nod, trying to take in all that she'd been told. She wasn't going to lie, a big part of what he said scared her. Him being a vampire was one thing: being one who'd slaughtered countless lives with satisfaction from the kill was another. Looking up at him, she saw the slight amount of fear mirrored in his eyes, not so much from what he'd done, but more from what she'd say. This was Angel, he wasn't the same as the demon that had killed those people. But still, just the thought of what he was capable of was a bit unnerving.

Silently, she moved back to her former position, giving him a small hug.

"You okay?" he asked softly

"Yeah, just going to need a while to get used to it, that's all. It's hard for me to imagine you like that… to me you're just Angel you know?"

He nodded, knowing how strange it would be for her. At that thought, he turned to her once again.

"Buffy… I know that there are things you probably don't want to tell me. Both of us have secrets, we always will, but there's something I need to know about. I feel… I wasn't going to ask this but I need to know what happened, from you. I need to know the truth."

Buffy, becoming fully alert, sat up straight, giving him a questioning gaze.

"What happened five years ago?"

Buffy froze, her eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. Why that? Why not anything but that? It was the one thing about her past she'd hoped he'd never find out, the one thing that she'd never want to have to explain again.

"I- I don't know what you mean." She answered shakily.

Angel gave her a sad gaze, catching the look in her eyes.

"Please Buffy, no more secrets." He whispered softly, needing desperately to understand what happened. Ever since he'd found out his mind had been swirling with possibilities, some which shook him; hard.

Buffy sighed, a small tear of frustration glistening in her eye. Replaying it in her head was one thing; but telling him, trying to explain something that she didn't fully understand, was another. With a deep breath she looked up at him to explain.

And explain she did.

She told him what had happened that night, how she had been up in her room when she found the knife, how it had called to her, almost enthralled her towards it. How when she had slowly sliced her arm it wasn't to kill herself; it was because she had to. It was like as soon as the first drop of blood hit the blade, she could feel, rather than see, power emanating from it; creating a strong glow that threatened to engulf her. One that she craved- needed more of. She had been so confused, like everything at the time made so much sense but still none at all. How the whole night was now such a daze; memories here and there, but a strong haze of mist hanging over it. How she'd struggled to find herself again afterwards, but no matter how hard she tried it always just became harder. She had become isolated from the world, and not even she could believe how much he had changed within her.

She didn't tell him how many times she'd thought she was going insane, or the nights when she was too scared to open her eyes. Her training had left almost visible emotional scars within her, some that she didn't have the will to reopen.

But it didn't end there.

For the next ten hours or so, they talked. About their pasts, their worries, their questions that had long been unanswered. They yelled, screamed, cried, and fought; paced across the floor and clutched to each other as they sobbed. By the time they were through, they knew things that both relieved and frightened them. Things that made them laugh out, while other made them want to cry. One simple talk had turned into an emotionally draining documentary, both eventually all-too tired to carry on. Some subjects had been left untouched; Angel's oddness and Buffy's more shadowy memories being some. And although a part of them hated it, they knew that for tonight, they could take no more.

Sprawled out on Angel's bed, the two laid in silent thoughts. With his arm wrapped loosely around her, Buffy stared up at the ceiling, slowly trying to process everything she had been told. Angel had refrained from sharing the darker details, but even without them his past was enough to scramble the brain. It was like him then and now were two separate people but not, like good and evil twins sharing one body or something. Her mind wandered to his victims, wondering what they'd seen when they looked at him. The same face? The same eyes that she herself had been almost enthralled by? No, that she was certain of; the face, the hands, the voice may have been the same back then, but there was no way his soulful brown orbs could have belonged to the same person. They had a constant edge of grief and guilt to them, one that although shadowed at times, was unmistakably there. It pained her sometimes to know that even now, all these years later he was brooding over it, but everyone dealt with pain in their own ways. She, of all people, could understand that.

Angel too, was lost in his thoughts. When he'd first brought up the breakdown, he'd expected some hard memories; but nothing could have prepared him for the toll it had taken on the small warrior. Lindsay had been concise; straight to the need-to-know, but Buffy had left little unsaid. He couldn't believe how much it had affected her, and that even now, all these years later, she was still so unsure of what happened. The look in her eyes as she'd explained it was so afraid, so broken; he'd seen a part of her that he knew she'd never allowed anyone else to see. The vulnerable, scared, uncertain persona that had been suppressed for so long. His heart broke just that little bit more with every tear that had fallen, and perhaps what hurt more, was that he knew there was nothing he could do to change it. That no matter how much he wished otherwise, there wasn't anything he could do to erase the pain that she still went through because of it all.

But that wasn't the only thing that was worrying him. The way she'd explained it, was like she knew everything that had happened, all the emotions and thoughts that were going through her head, but the thing she was lacking is why. Why it happened, why she had done what she done, why she had been able to do as much damage as she had. It was a huge piece of the puzzle that she'd obviously been agonizing over, and now was haunting him as well. Despite how he'd brushed it off, Lindsay wouldn't have brought up anything remotely personal about Buffy's past in the first place, if he didn't think it was related to the prophecy somehow. And now, hearing Buffy's version of what had happened, he was sure that if he found that missing piece of her past; it could eventually lead to the other answers he needed.

He was torn from his thoughts as Buffy turned in his embrace, a sad smile adorning her features.

"What are you thinking?" Angel asked softly, noticing her staring at him.

"What was it like?" she asked in a small voice, giving him an oddly juvenile look.

"What?"

"The world." She said simply, continuing at his questioning gaze. "Before the war, what was it like?"

Angel sighed and pulled her close, shaking his head.

"A lot different than it is now, but… at the same time the exact same. People lived in cities, countries, all across the world. There was separate governments and rulers, but for the most part everyone had freedom to live where they pleased; do what they wanted within reason. Only small wars, among the cultures and countries, but nothing like this. The people themselves… they were completely blind when it came to our world, most of them not even believing in supernatural stuff. But then, they were all so connected, shared ideas and thoughts from everywhere. Thinking back, I don't know whether to say they were smarter or just plain ignorant."

Buffy's eyes widened, shocked by the differences she was hearing.

"What about when you were growing up? Was it different then too?"

Angel smiled slightly, his mind flashing back to a scene forever etched in his mind.

"You know, I've seen so many things. Some that people would give their lives just to get a glimpse at, that they'd sell their very souls to be a part of. But… my fondest memory, the one that I look back to every now and then, and it still makes me smile. One day, when I was six or seven, my father was out of town for a few days. My mother and sister were finishing up the after dinner dishes, and so I went out for a walk. Through the forests in Galway, and a few hills down, there's a beautiful lake. I remember, I sat on the grass just by the water, my feet bare wet with dew. I just sat and stared at the it all, the water was so still, with the moonlight glistening off of it crystal-clear, the most gentle of breezes blowing across my face. No sounds, just peace. It's the best memory of my life I'd had, I can't remember ever being that happy since, that… at peace. Not just with myself, but everything. For that moment in time, it just…was."

There was a long moment of silence, Buffy gave him a small smile, her eyes glossy with tears.

"That's beautiful." She whispered, so softly he could barely here. "Take me there? Someday?"

Pulling her against him, Angel gave her a small smile of his own, nodding slightly.

"Yeah, someday."

And with that, the two laid there in silence. Both dreaming of a blissful someday of hope; one without worry or guilt or hurt, not even an over amount of joy- just… peace. A blissful someday, that they would cling to for the rest of their journey. A someday that they both knew would never come.

End of Chapter Twenty-Two.